


Sleepiness

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, dave is kind of amnesiac in the first chapters, i'm trash gomen, uhh, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:58:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dave, are you even fucking listening, asswipe?" </p>
<p>The uncannily familiar voice echoed through your ears while you tried to open your eyes, blinking away the sleepiness. There was something strange about this situation; perhaps it was the way you were certain a pillow could be more rigid than you. Jello, even. </p>
<p>[...] </p>
<p>You didn't manage to keep your eyes open much longer, despite your lazy struggling; then, everything faded into blackness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_"Dave, are you even fucking listening, asswipe?"_  
  
The uncannily familiar voice echoed through your ears while you tried to open your eyes, blinking away the sleepiness. There was something strange about this situation; perhaps it was the way you were certain a pillow could be more rigid than you. Jello, even.   
  
 _"Dave, what the everloving fuck is up with you? Answer me!"  
  
_ It soon dawned upon you that you couldn't move. Everything in front of you was blurry; vague excuses of colorful shapes. One especially, standing too close to you. It had a near tangible aura of worry, which didn't quite alarm you. You were too tired, too confused to care.  
  
 _"Dave!"_  
  
  
You didn't manage to keep your eyes open much longer, despite your lazy struggling; then, everything faded into blackness.   
  


* * *

When you wake up, things are still blurry around you, as if enveloped in a mist. This time, you succeed in your attempts to blink away the vagueness.  
  
You're in your room. The curtains are closed, but by the dim sunlight filtering through the spaces in them, you can tell it's around 4 P.M.- though that's only a wild guess. Someone is snoring lightly, sitting on your desk chair, wrapped in a blanket. Or rather, an strangely familiar figure, wrapped in a strangely familiar blanket. They don't seem to notice you're awake, and you consider that a good thing. It doesn't take long for you to decide you need to get out of here.  
  
Your arms are weak as you try to sit up, covered in bloody bandages.   
  
You don't remember what caused that.   
  
You honestly don't. 


	2. things you say in the middle of the night

Your name is Dave Strider.

Your best friend, Karkat Vantas, is huddled against you; his breathing is steady, quiet. You have to admit, it's a good change from his usual tirades and insults, even if the reasons behind that silence aren't ones you like in the slightest. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, your legs tangled together; he looks up at you after a few seconds, his eyes still red and puffy from how much he cried earlier.  
He settles his hand on your cheek gently a few seconds later.

You feel like throwing up from the familiarity of the movement, but you don't dare to usher a word about it. 

"Dave." 

His voice sounds unusually soft, any trace of anger that may have been there being gone. You raise an eyebrow slightly, only then noticing how worry washed over Karkat's features. It's your fault; you feel a pang of guilt hitting you.  
"Say something, for fuck's sake— you haven't talked in days, Dave, just get back up already! I..."

You wish you would have the courage to wipe the tears forming in the corners of his eyes; you can't help but to think about how they look so much like stars, under the lightning of the moon. You give a small shrug instead, pressing your forehead to his. He rolls his eyes and pushes you away, gritting his teeth.

"I hate you. I hate you so fucking much, you have no idea."  
He sighs, then presses his lips to yours, softly. He told you once about his feelings for you, but you never acted upon it; you suppose you can let him do that much, if he feels the need to. You owe him that.

"I wish I would have been there to save your sorry ass. It's not the same, without you ar—"  
He stops. 

"It's not the same when you're so unlike yourself, I mean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do know where i'm going with this but i don't know at the same time wow.

**Author's Note:**

> woooo have a shitty prologue here!!!


End file.
